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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115223">battle, my love i will see you again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuckbarracuda/pseuds/yuckbarracuda'>yuckbarracuda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>1917 (Movie 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Resurrection, superpowers?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:27:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuckbarracuda/pseuds/yuckbarracuda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Blake wakes up in the field outside the farmhouse, alive and confused. He goes to find Schofield.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Blake/William Schofield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>battle, my love i will see you again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay, i can't get the movie out my head and had to write something, anything. ii have literally zero knowledge on WW1, so just ignore the probably glaring inaccuracies. </p><p>not beta read, just listened to the soundtrack on repeat and cried. these boys deserve the world</p><p>song title from battle, my love by circa survive</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blake awoke on the soft, grassy ground, staring up at the sky. The pain in his side was searing, but with every breath, it dissipated into nothingness. Blake tried to think back, think about his last moments on Earth before dying. He was with Scho, on the farm, and then…and then he was laying on the ground with a stab wound.</p><p><em>The Hun,</em> Blake thought as he sat up suddenly, the images blooming in his mind; the dogfight, the falling plane, the German on fire.</p><p>Blake swallowed his spit, as he groaned into his palms. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out. It always varies. Sometimes he misses an hour, other times a whole week. Blake wondered what had gone on while his body had knit back together, while his soul was spat out of heaven or hell or wherever it went when he died. He never remembered anything after death.</p><p>Blake didn’t know anyone else who was…like this. The dying and coming back to life. He always resurrected in the place where he died, or wherever his body was transported to, his body intact and one piece. The worst of it was the lack of awareness from everyone else. They seemed to forget he was ever dead. In the beginning, Blake had thought the deaths were just violent nightmares. Until he had woken up in a pool of his own dried blood once.</p><p>Blake’s brain suddenly caught back up to him, and he gasped. They were going to the 2<sup>nd</sup> Devons. They had the message to give, to stop the attack, to save 1600 men, to save his <em>brother.</em></p><p>Blake scrabbled up, and looked around. The plane was still there, but the fire had all gone out. The Hun was decomposing on the ground in front of him. Blake swallowed. He didn’t know what to do.</p><p>Should he go back to the trenches? Should he forge on to Ecoust and Croisilles Wood? Blake worried his bottom lip. He doesn’t know how long it’s been but, judging by the state of rot of the Hun, at least a couple days, maybe even a week. So, the attack had long been staged and hopefully (please God) stopped by Schofield.</p><p>Maybe it was cowardice. Maybe Blake didn’t want to travel all the way there just to see hundreds of bodies strewn across the battlefield. Bodies that wouldn’t get back up in a day or two like Blake could. He heaved a tired sigh, and turned his back to the road, retracing the steps he and Schofield had taken days before.</p><p>He tried not to think of Scho. He couldn’t think about him, if he was lying dead in a ditch somewhere, or if he had been too late. Blake hoped with all his heart that at least Scho, who didn’t even have any ties to the 2<sup>nd</sup> Devons, who didn’t even sign up for the task, was okay.</p><p>Blake passed the chopped cherry trees, the pearly white petals now brown and dying. Blake’s face fell into a sad grimace at the image of the blossoms, cut from their source too soon.</p><p>He made it back to the German trenches quickly, cursing the sight of the rats that scurried around him. He frowned at the exit they had demolished entirely from the explosion. He couldn’t go back that way. So he circled around it, tried to find some place where he could get through. It was tedious but he finally found another opening. Thankfully, it was a short tunnel, with no barracks in sight.</p><p>Blake crossed into no man’s land, arms raised high in the air. It wouldn’t do much good to get gunned down by his fellow soldiers. But, there wasn’t even a peep from the other side, and Blake started to get a worried feeling deep in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>He walked carefully through the muddy landscape, careful not to fall into any of the murky pits. The barbed wire part was tricky, but Blake managed to get through without cutting himself.</p><p>Blake made it to the other side quickly, and frowned at the lack of…anything. He got a strong sense of déjà vu, as he peered down below.</p><p>Abandoned. Blake swallowed at the sight, wondering just what the hell was going on. Had they all been shipped out already? Was this area seen as fought and secured enough to send his comrades where they’re needed next?</p><p>Blake felt a shiver of anxiety and fear crawl up his spine. He couldn’t be stuck out here, no troop to go back to. Schofield was out there somewhere, thinking Blake was dead or worse. Perhaps this curse or blessing or whatever it was, simply…erased Blake from the other Lieutenant’s mind. Perhaps Scho has a new buddy to lay down next to under cloudy days, Blake not even a thought in his mind anymore. Blake had seen it happen before, to people who weren’t his direct family. Blake would go up to them, and they would stare back at him strangely, ask <em>who are you, </em>politely, and Blake would lose a friend, just like that.</p><p>Blake jumped down to the other side, pitching it to down through the trenches, barely acknowledging the signs that depicted directions. He retraced his steps quickly, hearing the blood rush through his veins as he continued to see not a single soul. His panic grew as his vision darkened around the corners of his eyes. <em>I can’t-I can’t be alone out here, can I? Where’s my unit, my friends, <strong>Scho</strong>? </em> </p><p>“Yo! Blake, you alright?” Blake stuttered to a halt, his feet almost coming out from under him. He heaved another panicked sigh as he looked around. That’s when he saw them. Down to where this all started, in the field. His unit, intermingling and talking with each other. The tents were still around, the clotheslines, everything was in its place. <em>Their</em> tree lurked in the distance and Blake swallowed his sorrow at the sight of it.</p><p>He looked to find the speaker, and saw Evans, a lad he had spoken to quite frequently before he began to spend most his time with Scho. He was looking at Blake with confusion, but thankfully, not suspicion, or worse, horror.</p><p>“What were you doing down in the trenches? Miss it already?” Evan joked, smiling. Blake huffed a breath, before walking down toward him.</p><p>“Sorry, I just, had to get away for the moment,” Blake lied, though, by the look on Evans' face, it was clear he didn’t really buy it. Whatever.</p><p>“Hm, well the trenches are a good place for solitary right now. You know no one wants to step one foot down there.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Blake said quietly. He figured out, long ago, that making too many bold statements before he knew exactly what was going on could lead to some serious trouble. But…he just had to ask.</p><p>“Have you seen Schofield?” Blake asks and his chest seizes up at the sight of worry that crosses Evans’ face.</p><p>“No, seriously, Blake, are you okay?” Evans asks again, this time not smiling.</p><p>The ground under Blake seems to buckle at that moment. He blinks away the tears and answers softly, “Yeah, man, it’s just, my heads been feeling weird, with everything that went on.” It wasn’t even a lie that time. He hated coming back to life, hated the confusion that came with it.</p><p>“Oh yeah, I bet. Schofield worrying you that bad?” Evans asks, placing a hand on Blake’s shoulder. It feels odd, that comfort. His hand is tiny compared Scho’s, the only person who’s ever really touched him out here.</p><p>“Uhm, yeah, guess so,” Blake mumbles as his mind goes into overdrive. What happened to Scho? Was he shot? How bad was he? Will he survive? The pressure in Blake’s lungs increased tenfold as if a weight was suddenly placed on his chest.</p><p>“He must be doing alright if they moved him out the casualties’ tent. Just has to break through the fever, right?” Evans tries to comfort, and yet Blake just felt more and more lost until-</p><p>
  <em>Fuck, his hand. It went through a bloody decaying Hun. He must have gotten an infection and who knows what else. </em>
</p><p>“Thanks, Evans, I really appreciate it.” Blake smiles halfheartedly, before shouldering past the other officer quickly, ignoring his shout of concern. Blake traveled down through the path, mind set on finding Scho. There were only two places Scho could be, and glancing at their tree, he wasn’t there. Which meant he was in their tent.</p><p>Blake shuffled through to the area where they slept, the voices and laughter of his fellow soldiers doing little to ease the pain in his heart. His eyes zeroed on their tent, so inconspicuous next to hundreds of others.</p><p>Blake didn’t even hesitate for a moment. He ripped open the cover and felt his throat constrict at the sight. Scho, sweating bullets and shivering, met his sight. Blake dropped to his knees instantly, his pack and boots still on, the air stifling in the small tent.</p><p>Scho’s eyes were closed, and Blake could just tell his teeth were clenched down behind his lips. The man radiated warmth, and yet his forehead was clammy where Blake tested his temperature. The bandages around his head were new, and Blake worried about that too. What had gone on when Blake had died? But, the weight on his chest let up, just a little, at the sight of the shallow breathing of the other. It was something at least.</p><p>“Scho, <em>Scho</em>, please, wake up just for a second.” Blake pleaded, shaking the other man’s shoulders. Scho mumbled under his breath, his lips seeming to quiver.</p><p>“<em>Tom</em>…oh God Tom,” Scho all but moaned, his face seeming to screw up in pain. Tom’s mouth went dry as the words registered in his brain.</p><p>“Scho…Will, I’m right here. Please, open your eyes.” Tom pleaded, feeling the tears that have been held back finally flood down his face. It hurt, hurt so bad to see Will like this. Tom thanked God that at least Will wouldn’t have to remember Tom dying in his arms.</p><p>Will heaved a startled breath of air before his eyes opened to his surroundings. Tom’s pulse skyrocketed at the sight of those blue eyes, hazy and dull from the pain and fever. Will blinked softly, and finally seemed to focus his eyes on the other soldier. Tom smiled down at him.</p><p>“Am I dead?” Will uttered softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The words shook Tom to the core like individual bombs set off in his heart.</p><p>“What? No, Will, you’re okay. Just a fever,” Tom reassured, his hand falling to Will’s cheek. “See, we’re real,” Tom tried to reassure, but Will just looked at him with confusion, eyebrows scrunched in a way that would be adorable given any other circumstance.</p><p>“You’re a ghost then. You’re haunting me,” Will reasoned, seemingly to himself. His eyes stared through Tom, rather than at him. Tom was worried Will might still be half-dreaming.</p><p>“No, Will. I’m alright. We’re both okay,” Tom ignored the waver in his voice. Will looked so lost, so scared, huddled up in his cot, like a child. Tom stroked his cheek.</p><p>“I-,” Will started, before pausing for a moment, “you died in my arms, Tom. You must be a ghost. Or an angel. Have you come back for me?” Will asked, and his eyes shone with tears. “Please, take me with you, Tom. I can’t…not without you.”</p><p>Tom crumbled under the words, his chest heaving at the softly spoken words. Will remembers. Will remembers it all and he <em>shouldn’t</em>. This wasn’t part of the script. He was supposed to forget, not remember it so vividly.</p><p>“Listen to me, Will. Please. I am real and alive.” Tom couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that he had to stop his man, his soulmate from jumping off the ledge. There had to be a reason that Will wasn’t getting better, and the reason was staring him right in the face. He all but spook it into</p><p>“You can’t die, Will, because you’ll leave me, all by myself. I’m here, Will. Listen to me. Get better, fight this, survive, <em>beat it</em>. I can’t follow you to the other side, so you can’t <em>leave me now</em>.”</p><p>Will’s eyes cleared for a moment, his pupils shrinking briefly before dilating in the candlelight of the tent. He blinked and gasped. “Tom, you’re here.” Will stared, enraptured at the image of Tom in front of him.</p><p>“Yes, you suicidal idiot,” Tom laughed, but it grated in his throat. “Get some sleep now. Fight this off, and I’ll tell you all about my superpowers,” Tom murmured into the silence.</p><p>Will leaned forward and Tom met him halfway, leaving a chaste and dry kiss on the other’s lips. Will fell back onto his bed, smiling blearily.</p><p>“You have some explaining to do,” Will stressed, but his lips were pulled into a smile. Tom wanted to kiss him again, but Will was already dozing off again, eyes slipping shut.</p><p>Tom exhaled a soft breath. He finally unstripped his outer layers, letting his backpack fall onto the floor as he settled on the other cot in the tent. He turned to face Will, and let the exhaustion finally run throughout his body. His eyes blinked once, twice, and he dozed off.</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yes tom is based on kenny from south park, sue me <br/>idk i thought?? with the flare being sent up and the Germans having dipped, the British soldiers could leave the trenches for a bit, like they don't have to stay there still right? i imagine that like, theyre gonna be sent off somewhere else within like the week idk. </p><p>comments/kudos appreciated</p></blockquote></div></div>
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